Don't talk to strangers
by DancingLikeWater
Summary: A little girl loses her way, very far from home.  She's not so helpless, though.  She's a Schezar, after all. But the stranger she's just met seems less than kind, and this might not be the faerietale she's used to. [Ch 2 is now up.]
1. Wayfaring stranger

What a pretty child she was. All lace and ruffles, the perfect example of Asturia's decadence. Folken saw so many lost souls in his travels, but none so well clad as this child. She had gotten lost, and then the storm came. That's how it always happens; first one disaster, then another far worse. This was certainly no time for flight, and Folken had gone seeking shelter. When he saw her, so dishevelled and upset, he thought perhaps he might have found it.

"Are you lost?"

Celena had seen him land, and wanted to scramble away. This could mean nothing good. She knew the stories about cursed people, all those myths about strange beings that you must never go near. There were strange people that could make you dissapear. Her father went looking for one of those people, and he never came back. She didn't want to disappear. What would happen to her mother? And her brother, who loved her so dearly?

"I won't hurt you," he said. He knelt quietly, letting her decide whether she wanted to come closer or not. She did need to get out of the rain, though. The poor thing was already soaked through, and would become ill if she remained longer.

"Are you hungry?"

"Stay away. I don't want anything from you..." She knew what those white wings meant. He was some kind of demon. And demons eat children. Or they peel their skin off and leave them for dead. Something like that. At any rate, she knew they did something she didn't want to have happen.

"You've been here for awhile, haven't you? Are you all on your own?"

"No...I..." It had been awhile, and she was cold and weary. She missed her family, and how would she ever get home? It was getting dark and she had no idea where she was. Perhaps some strange far off land, perhaps demons or faeries had carried her off. But she musn't give in. She'd be strong, and then she'd get home. That was how it went, wasn't it? All those people in faerietales, they endured tests and went home better than before. They didn't give up, and she couldn't either. Her mother and her brother needed her.

"I'm fine!" she screamed. "Just stay away from me, bad man. I know what you are!"

Of course, such things always hurt to hear. But she was only a child. She most likely didn't understand what she was saying, and if she didn't let him help her she might die.

"I'll stay over here, if you wish. I'd still like to talk to you, though. I'm lonely, you see."

He seemed like he was telling the truth. He was obviously sad, too.

"But why are you lonely? Demons don't get lonely."

"We do, very much. No one will talk to us, you see. No one likes us, so we have no friends. I would like one. Someday."

Even if there were no other good quality about her, Celena did not have a heart of stone. Who would hear such things and not feel for the soul saying them? Would it be okay, though? Did he really mean that? Clarity in anything eluded her, surely the work of the damp and cold. She was in no condition to decide anything. But he seemed so sincere...she thought maybe...well, he could mean it, couldn't he? Everyone gets redemption. In the stories, they do. There's always that someone surprising who earns respect for their kind...

"Why don't you just cut those things off? Then no one would hate you." He seemed even sadder then, and she regretted the remark. But it was the most logical solution.

"You're right, I'm sure. I don't know that that would solve everything, though. I'd still be me, you see. Without my wings, I'd still be the same. And it is myself that is hated."

"Maybe...maybe if you learned proper introductions, you wouldn't scare people. It's rude, you know, just to come up to someone you don't know." Well, everyone knew that, but maybe he didn't. Monsters are always rude, so they must not have any governesses to drill them every day in boring rules.

"I don't have anyone to teach me."

"I could!" she piped up. "I know lots about it! My governess says I'm always so polite and everyone loves me because of it. I can teach you everything you need to know." She tried to take on a more proper voice, the one her instructor always used. "And then one day, you'll become a debutante."

She was only reciting a line, only repeating stories she knew. What beautiful simplicity this child had, Folken thought. The world would be much the worse for her loss, surely. Lightning cracked nearby, and on cue the rain became worse. It wouldn't be fitting if the storm didn't aspire to be a tempest. It wouldn't be a faerietale.

"Perhaps I could. But you'd have to trust me first, if you're ever to teach me. Will you?" He held his hand out to her yet, extending another chance. He hoped she might take it without hesitation, without fear.


	2. Open palm

Hands have built the world from nothing. Used to pray, to gesture, to build, they account for all human abilities. More importantly, the open palm, that most admirably bland of symbols, is capable of being friendly, hostile, or simply uncaring. It is no wonder that such a thing is often extended at meetings. To stretch one's fingers towards another for whatever reason is irrevocable proof of one's humanity.

"You will trust me, won't you?"

It seemed so inevitable to him. She didn't have to trust him, though. Certainly, she would be more likely to succeed if she trusted him, but that was only if he actually intended to help her. She wasn't the dumbest person in the world. But he was lonely; if no one ever trusted him when it mattered, he'd never learn to be a better person.

"I'll try," she replied. Yes, that was the perfect answer! If she found that she couldn't trust him, she wouldn't be a liar. He wouldn't be hurt by her not giving him a chance. Good things all around. She smiled at her own cleverness, forgetting that such pride is unbecoming a lady.

"Then come, let's get out of the rain," he said.

The morning was long in coming. The storm subsided, though it did not completely abate. Everything was dreary and damp, still cold, still sopping wet. There was also something to be said for Celena's hair, which was a miserable mess. She hadn't given a thought to it the night before when, being exhausted, she fell straight to sleep once a safe, dry place had been found. Now she saw her folly as she pulled at the mats that had formed.

"OW!" Oh, it hurt very much. If only her handmaiden was here, she knew just how to tug these things apart so that they didn't hurt. Celena balled up her hands in frustration, pounding them on the ground.

"Do you have a brush with you?" she asked. He had long hair; therefore he must have something. Celena was dismayed when he seemed surprised by her question.

"Unfortunately, no. I carry very little with me on these trips." Although he should have had the good sense to keep one with him, he never thought to carry such a mark of vanity. He saved enough scruffy people that it might have been useful, especially given his fondness for animals. In most cases, however, people were glad enough to be spared a sad fate that they didn't care about their looks.

"Perhaps I can do something, though." Folken motioned for her to sit by him, which she did with great reservation. He began meticulously picking apart the knots of hair, at one point making some effort to straighten out her bangs. She thought it was such a sweet thing of him to do, even if he obviously wasn't as talented as the ladies were at home. Conveniently she didn't notice his hand lingering on her forehead. He was concerned. She had picked up a slight temperature the night before, and it was worse this morning. He stopped abruptly.

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for it. Cosmetology has never been a science I was especially skilled in."

She had no idea what cosmetology was, and she hated science. It was so boring. Thankfully it wasn't a necessary thing for a lady to learn. Her poor brother had to study for hours on the subject, even though he only wanted to play with swords. He was the best knight a princess could ask for when it came to those games. He always slayed his dragons, and no one could storm a castle like he could! Oh, but her mind was wandering again. People often said she didn't seem to have a thought in her head. But it was so hard trying to be a lady _and_ deal with these boring things. She had to give up something.

"I do know of someone who can help, though."

"Do they live near here?"

"It's not so far."

"Oh. Well, could we go, then? I don't know how far away home is, and I don't want to go back to Mother looking like this." What a lecture she would receive! 'Celena, what have you done to yourself?' and 'Oh, child, what will we do with you?' Or her favorite, 'Now, now, how will we ever marry you off? We'll have to put you in a cart and take you to market.' To which she would reply, 'Oh, but I've always wanted to be a pony!' Or a goat, or whatever animal she felt like being that day.

"Yes, we can," he replied. "Are you afraid of heights?"

"Oh, no! I'm not afraid of anything!" she said, her grin quite large. "My brother and I, we go on adventures all the time. I've seen everything there is to see. I'm not afraid." She was certain of herself in the way only small children who have had the empty spaces in their lives filled by storybooks can be. How enchanting she was.

Celena did regret her words later, however, when she discovered that she had never actually seen land so very far below her feet. She clung tightly to Folken as they went soaring through the air, praying through all the turbulence and uncertainty that he wouldn't drop her. After an eternity and a half, they made it to what looked like a castle in the sky. She'd never seen anything quite like it. It wasn't shiny or pretty, but why would it be? A demon lived there. They don't have pretty things.

She found that she felt much less enthusiastic about everything after they had arrived. All she wanted to do was sleep. She was so tired, and...and...well, she couldn't stay awake to think of anything else.

Folken let Celena rest in his quarters while he sifted through papers. A small pile had built up since his departure. It was a traditional bit of revenge for someone taking unwarranted absences to be deluged in meaningless paperwork. He would stop intermittently to check on Celena, whose temperature had risen to quite a fever. There was general moaning and asking for nonsensical things. It wouldn't be a child's illness without childish displays of whining. She was lost to unhappy little dreams of hitherto unknown monsters and delusions, which hopefully would never see the light of reality.

Having already been awake for two days, Folken was unable to avoid catching a little rest. He chose a very poor time, for although he was in his personal quarters and had no need that day to be in contact with anyone, a colleague had decided that he absolutely must be bothered.

"I see that we've not had enough of wasting everyone's time," a most unpleasant voice rang out. Folken's eyes stung enough that he decided it would be best if he didn't use them for awhile. This made him seem all the more serious.

"As this work has been so graciously given up by my colleagues, it is now mine to finish in what time I will."

"Ah, so you claim responsibility for it. I will certainly let interested parties know who to come to when the work is late." He smirked, ever so smug. "You are claiming responsibility for that also?" he referred to the little matted-haired urchin suffering under the covers.

"She is under my care, yes."

"Another little something you picked up? Just what do you plan to do with this one?"

"It is a sensitive matter. I will not discuss it."

The other man continued smirking. There were only so many positions in the army that Folken could hand out without becoming unacceptably suspect. Folken might have the favor of the Emperor for now, but he couldn't keep it up. Not with his odd habits. It was only a matter of time now.

"At least this one is human," he quipped. "I'll make things easy for you. This much work will keep you isolated for some time. I'll just go report this find of yours."

"There is no need for that. I will be making my report to Emperor Dornkirk quite soon, and will include all recent incidents. This project would require his supervision, and as I have said is sensitive. There is no need for the entire department to know."

"Nonetheless, we will need to know where you've gone. She will be evidence enough and no other explanation necessary. You never were one for giving explanations, and I would think you might rejoice at my relieving you of such a task."

It wasn't worth further argument. Not that he had been blatantly careless, but Folken had been unable as of late to keep the others out of his business. This could turn into quite a situation, but luckily he had the Emperor on his side. Now he only needed an excuse as to why he had picked up a useless child. Folken was full of those.

"As you wish," Folken said. "Things will be properly sorted in good time. Until then, do not hesitate to cause what useless chaos you may."

As it happened, Celena did not die from a fever. She didn't come close. Folken had been fairly nonchalant about it. He was nice enough, but...well, did he even care? He wasn't fussing over her, or offering her something to drink, or even seeing if she wanted something to entertain herself with! Furthermore, he hadn't offered her a doll or sent someone to fix her hair. But the most intolerable thing of all was that she couldn't see the sunshine! Even the greenest of maids knew to open curtains when their charge was awake.

"Folken!" she shouted. She had merely wanted to call him Demon or something like that, but he insisted that he had a name. He said there were many demons, and how can you summon the one you want if you never differentiate? She didn't like it, but she decided she'd follow his rules. After all, she could get one that's not so nice. Although she did wonder if maybe she'd get a demon who believed in serving its guests orange juice at a proper time.

"Folken, where are you?" She sat up and looked around to find that she was alone. It was then that the dark and strange nature of this place began to set in. She had no idea where she was, if he would come back, or what in the world was going to happen. For a fleeting moment, she wanted to feel frightened about it. Anything could happen at this point, so it was natural that she would want to cry. That's what little girls do. Oh, but if she did that, what would happen? After all, he might not have left her for dead. There might be no evil plans in place. In fact, maybe no one knew where she was. He said that there were people in this place, at least someone who knew about hair, so she couldn't be completely isolated. Oh, but what if something had happened to him? She couldn't sit here crying, she had to do something. Because if she failed this test, she wouldn't make it back home.

Celena left the room and began a lovely adventure of exploring everything. There were weird plants and strange things hanging everywhere. She grinned, finding it all fascinating. It seemed that there weren't any windows leading to the outside world, so she surmised she was in a cave. Of course! Instantly her mind turned from fear to a desire to see if she could find any interesting little treasures. Oh, what fun she'd have telling Allen all about this. He thinks he's so smart and so big and strong! Well, Little Celena would return home and tell him what's what!

She had already gone into several different rooms when she heard someone coming. It didn't seem like Folken, though. This person wasn't so tall. And he was carrying lots of things, so many he couldn't see the little creature staring up at him. She grinned. She felt like she was invisible and could wreak all kinds of havoc! She decided that the most fun thing to do right now would be to pull this man's shoes off. He'd wonder what in the world had happened, and would never know it was a little girl who had fooled him.

As the boxes and books and various other things hit Celena's head, she kind of regretted her decision. In fact, she thought it was downright silly. But this man should really be more careful and not drop things on other people's heads! It was rude! She began crying about how much that hurt and now uncalled for it was.

"What? What's this...?" the man queried. He got up from the floor and looked at the cause of his trouble. "Have you gotten loose from somewhere?"

"NO!" she cried. How dare he not address the real issue! "You should say you're sorry. You should!"

He really could have given her a response to that. In fact, he could have apologized, he was quite capable. He did a lot of apologizing to a select group of people. But this miniature upstart was not someone he was inclined to defer to.

"Who do you belong to?"

"Mother, my brother and the gods," she said dutifully.

"No. Who is working on you, child?"

"What do you mean?"

As intellectually stimulating as this conversation was, this man had more important things to do than interrogate a simpleton. He was also not so inclined towards children, finding them intolerably difficult. He took Celena by the hand, intending to lead her to someone who would know better what to do.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing? We haven't been introduced! And I'm not going anywhere with you!"

She put up a great fight, all the way down several hallways, in fact. There was much kicking and screaming and general carrying on, a ruckus that could be heard through several corridors and by several very, very busy men. After this most undignified parade, she found herself plunked down in a chair and told to sit quietly while two of these insufferably boring men chatted outside. Finally, one came back in to talk with her.

"Where do you come from?" he asked stiffly. Celena refused to answer.

"Who brought you here?" Initially this was met with no answer, but Celena was somewhat curious.

"Why?"

"You've gotten lost, we need to know where to send you."

This man must have been important, Celena thought. And if he was important, he must know lots of things. Everything that goes on. And that would mean...of course! She could find out if Folken was still alive! Oh, this was a good thing. She smiled happily.

"Folken brought me here. Where is he? Can I see him?"

The two men looked at eachother, rather annoyed. Of course. Of course it was Folken. Would this nonsense never cease?

"You know," the man at the desk began, "If he would only properly report to others, these little mishaps wouldn't happen. There's no excuse for it."

"None at all," the other replied. "How unprofessional."

"Uncivilised is more like it. I believe that now would be a time to put a stop to it." The man at the desk, who seemed to be superior to the other, smiled down at the child. "Now then, we'll send you where you need to be. I'm certain Folken will be by to visit you shortly."

Celena was quite pleased to hear this, though she wondered why the men were suddenly happy. They obviously didn't like her. Maybe they liked Folken? They were rude, and he was rude. So maybe rudeness was actually politeness in this place. In that case, these men must be very good friends of Folken's. She went quite amiably down corridors with this other man, chatting him up about all manner of subjects. He was very lucky that she could educate him all about shoes and hair ribbons, and why pink and light green where such a nice color combination. She even shared with him the secret that she always tells her governess she won't eat her supper because it's hideous when in fact she often enjoyed the food.

She hardly noticed the trip until it ended, because of all the fun she was having. Such lovely people, she really liked them. She hoped she could spend more time with them, although she knew she must get back home after someone fixed her hair. But maybe she could come back again. She was about to ask the man whether they got to play like this every day, or if perhaps she should only come on certain days like she did with other children, when she noticed that he had left her in a room all by herself. She called out for him, but there wasn't any answer. Folken didn't answer her either. Oh, what a horrible thing this was!

"Doesn't anyone know about saying their goodbyes?" she said indignantly. Celena sat down cross-legged on the floor, leaning against her fists and looking sullen. These people were weird, and she was already tired of having them drag her places. And now she realized she was hungry. When was lunch, she wondered? Folken was so dumb for not keeping a schedule or anything like that. He couldn't leave that responsibility up to Celena How was she supposed to plan for these things, when she was too busy having adventures?

"I guess I just have to sit here until he comes back. Then I'll yell at him, because he's being rude and he wanted me to teach him manners..." She whiled away the hours thinking of exactly what she would say to Folken when he showed up.


End file.
